


Stony is a Many Splendored Thing... or "Arsenic and Old Balls"

by juniperhoot



Series: The Long Balls Trilogy-verse [2]
Category: Avengers, Captain America, Iron Man - Fandom, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, stony - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Science Bros, Snarky Tony, ball jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 20:49:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1563560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juniperhoot/pseuds/juniperhoot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kissing Steve Rogers was one of the best decisions of Tony Stark's life. To be fair, he was a genius, so maybe the scales were tipped in his favor when it came to smart decision-making. Still, genius or not, he wasn't above patting himself on the back for recognizing a good thing when he saw it. And Steve was a very good thing. In a life that might generously be characterized as morally ambiguous, this was the one thing Tony could point to and say, without hesitation, “This is good.” Of course, that thought was immediately followed by, “Do not fuck this up.”</p><p>Tony's old man balls were most definitely a factor, in his mind anyway, for potentially fucking this up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stony is a Many Splendored Thing... or "Arsenic and Old Balls"

Kissing Steve Rogers was one of the best decisions of Tony Stark's life. To be fair, he was a genius, so maybe the scales were tipped in his favor when it came to smart decision-making. Still, genius or not, he wasn't above patting himself on the back for recognizing a good thing when he saw it. And Steve was a very good thing. In a life that might generously be characterized as morally ambiguous, this was the one thing Tony could point to and say, without hesitation, “This is good.” Of course, that thought was immediately followed by, “Do not fuck this up.”

The fact is, relationships were never Tony's thing. Sex? Absolutely. He considered himself one of the premier practitioners of all things sexual. But relationships? Exclusively investing time and effort into another human being? Not technically something he'd ever considered, before Steve. It was a challenge to be met, but as a new day dawned over their naked, comfortably snuggled bodies, he felt confident he could rise to the challenge.

“Hey Tony... you awake yet?”

Tony groaned and cracked an eye to peek at Steve, who was still stretched out against him, his head propped on his hand. “What gave it away? My closed eyes and shallow, regular breaths?”

“I've been lying here, watching you sleep. Noticed this a few minutes ago.” Steve's leg hooked over Tony's thigh, his knee playfully nudging his lover's erect cock.

“Ah yes, that thing has a mind of its own. It doesn't seem to realize I had a very late night.”

Steve rested a hand on Tony's chest, idly brushing his thumb back and forth over a nipple. “What a coincidence. I had a pretty late night, myself.”

Feigning curiosity, Tony quirked an eyebrow. “You don't say. Anything interesting?”

“Hmm, well, there's this guy with kind of a... gosh, I guess I'd say he has a Clark Gable kinda charm about him--”

Tony rolled onto his side to face Steve, “Clark Gable? Really?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, you know the type. Handsome, dark hair, moustache, clever.”

“Is this where you admit you had a thing for Clark Gable back in the day? Tell me the truth, how many times did you go to see _Gone With the Wind_?”

“I saw it maybe seven or eight times.”

“JARVIS, please note that Captain America just admitted he had a pre-serum crush on Clark Gable.”

Steve pulled Tony into a kiss, quieting him for a moment. He caressed Tony's face, chuckling quietly as he said, “JARVIS, please note that Iron Man has a heck of an erection from talking about my crush on Clark Gable.”

“Technically, the erection was there before we started talking. Your erection, on the other hand...” Tony reached into the narrow gap between their bodies, wrapping his sturdy fingers around Steve's cock. “This definitely started sometime after you started talking about Clark Gable.”

Steve's lips brushed Tony's ear, as he murmured, “If you want to get real technical about it, it was when I started talking about how I spent last night with you. Clark Gable was incidental to the situation.”

“So you're saying I turn you on _more than Clark Gable_? JARVIS--”

“Shhhhh.” Steve's hand roved down Tony's side, gripping tightly at his hip, gently thrusting his hips to make the most of Tony's grip on his hard cock. “More kissing, less talking.”

Tony grinned wickedly and signaled his compliance by nibbling at Steve's lower lip. They had no plans for the day, so Tony was quite content to spend this morning indulging Steve’s demand for more kissing.

Tony offered to make breakfast while Steve took a shower. He grabbed a robe and headed for the kitchen, dialing Bruce as he walked. He set the phone on the counter and started cooking.

“What's up, Tony?” Bruce squinted at him over the video-call, chortling. “You're just rolling out of bed now? Lemme guess... your theoretical twenty-five-year-old kept you up all night?”

“No time to discuss my incredible sex life. I just wanted to check in. Have you had a chance to review the rest of that file?”

“Tony, are you cooking breakfast for two? Is she still there?”

“I'm not answering that. Did you--”

“Yes, Tony. I did. And actually... it kills me to say this, but I think the science is sound, mostly. I think it will require a much lower level of gamma exposure to achieve the effect you want. I've worked up some amended details on the whole thing -- do you want me to swing by to talk about this?”

Tony glanced in the direction of the bathroom, then looked back at the phone. “Not today. Would tomorrow work? I have some things I'm doing today.”

“Some _things_ , or some _one_?”

“It really galls you that I have such an irresistible appeal, doesn't it?”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Lunch tomorrow?”

“Perfect. Come to my place then.” He heard the shower turn off, and grabbed the phone. “Gotta run.”

Steve emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his slim hips, looking around for his discarded clothing. He cast a warm smile in Tony's direction as he picked up his jeans. “Would you believe me if I told you I had no idea any of this was going to happen when I came over last night?”

Tony smirked. “None at all?”

Steve shook his head. “Well... I'd heard so much about you with the ladies. I wasn't sure if my wishful thinking was influencing the way I thought you looked at me.”

Tony handed Steve a glass of orange juice and gestured toward a plate heaped with a variety of breakfast foods artfully arranged around a mountain of hashbrowns. Grabbing the sketchbook off the table, Tony looked again at the sexually-charged drawing of himself. “Clearly, by the time you drew this, you knew it wasn't wishful thinking.”

Steve's face went crimson. “Okay, so I'd figured it out by then. Yeah.”

They spent the day lounging around the penthouse, with Tony insisting that he wanted to give Steve a guided tour of the most important movies of the last seventy years. Tony suggested it would take some time to cover even the most bare-bones list of essentials, but Steve had to admit to himself, he liked the sound of Tony planning for them to spend so much time together. And it was nice, sitting on the couch with Tony's head resting in his lap, running his fingers through Tony's hair, and listening to his running commentary on what they were watching. They kicked off their film fest by watching the _Godfather_ trilogy, or at least, as much of it as Tony wanted to watch. To be precise, they watched the entire first and second films, then skipped ahead to the last few minutes of the final installment, with Tony offering a brief summary of key plot points. “Trust me when I say to you, it is a sign that I hold you in very high esteem, that I am sparing you the truly egregious acting in this one.”

As the final credits began to roll, Steve's hand began a slow, deliberate migration from its resting place over Tony's arc reactor. After some teasing side trips, gently circling and toying with Tony's nipples, his hand slithered over surprisingly firm abs, reaching Tony's waist. Steve bit his lower lip, gazing down at Tony's closed eyes and darkly handsome features. Trembling, he dipped his fingertips under the waistband of Tony's jeans, softly drawing them back and forth over the tender, ticklish skin there, skimming from one hip to the other. Steve's hand would occasionally dip a little lower, only to retreat to its deliciously agonizing fallback position just below his lover's waistband. Tony's arousal was impossible to miss now, arching up against the fabric containing it.

Feeling Steve's rising erection under him, Tony turned his head from side to side, rubbing against the firm flesh there. “I don't suppose --”

“Yes, please,” Steve breathed, “I thought you'd never ask.”

He slid out from under Tony, kneeling beside the sofa to cradle Tony's face in his hands. Steve's lips pressed hungrily against Tony's, parting slightly to invite intrusion, an invitation Tony eagerly accepted, probing and exploring Steve's mouth with his tongue. Even stripped of words, Tony's mouth was a force to be reckoned with, every shift of his lips and sweep of his tongue a declaration of desire. Maintaining a firm lip-lock, Steve rejoined Tony on the sofa, straddling his hips and grinding against him as they kissed. Deliriously, Tony tangled his fingers in Steve's hair and growled, “Bedroom. Now.”

In a frenzy of kissing, fumbling, and getting tangled in half-removed garments, they managed to strip one another by the bedroom door. Tony produced a condom and lube from a drawer, and quirked an inquisitive brow at Steve. “How do you feel about this? Any thoughts? It’s your call.”

Steve shivered a little, offering a tentative but encouraging smile. He nodded and whispered, “I am going to assume you know what you're doing, like you did with the other stuff.”

Tony took Steve by the hand and led him to the edge of the bed. “Of course. This is science.”

He kissed Steve again, his caresses reassuring and tender as they lay down together. Tony began a slow, deliberate exploration of Steve’s incredible body. He kissed, bit, and sucked at Steve’s smooth, masculine expanse of chest, leaving a trail of rapidly fading lovebites. He drew his fingertips over them as they disappeared, murmuring words of appreciation for the healing properties granted by the super soldier serum. Perhaps rapidly healing hickeys weren’t one of the original intents of Project: Rebirth, but they were certainly one of the more amusing side effects, and Tony couldn’t resist the temptation to bestow them liberally. And from the sounds he was making, Steve was clearly registering his approval.

When he was sure Steve was relaxed and thoroughly aroused again, Tony picked up the lube and put a little on his fingers. Slipping his hand into the cleft between Steve’s cheeks, Tony began making soft, circular strokes with a slicked fingertip, feeling Steve gradually relax until he was able to gently probe past his tight opening. First one finger, sliding in and out, stretching him open, then another finger joining the first, working Steve toward readiness. “See, the more you trust me, the more you relax. The more you relax, the better this feels.” His fingers curled upward slightly, and he grinned as Steve moaned loudly. “Oh my gosh!”

Tony's cock twitched at the sight and sound of Steve writhing with desire. He stroked himself to be sure he was ready, then rolled the condom on and applied a generous amount of lube before touching the tip of his erection to Steve's asshole. “I want you to look at me now, Steve. I'm going to go very slowly. You tell me if you need me to stop at any time.” He pressed in, quietly breathing instructions encouraging Steve to bear down slightly to counter the impulse to tense up. Once the tip was in, Tony paused, allowing Steve time to adjust to the sensation. He wrapped his fingers around his lover's substantial cock, his hand gliding up and down its length. Lust and pride blazed in Tony's eyes as he gazed upon Steve. “Your trust is incredibly hot, you know that?”

Steve’s face was already flushed with desire, but he somehow managed to blush a deeper shade of red. The intensity of Tony’s gaze was breathtaking. Every cell in Steve’s body was ablaze with erotic awareness, focused on the profound connection he felt to this brilliant, provocative, sensual man.

When Steve indicated he was ready for more, Tony eased forward, slowly sliding more of his shaft into Steve. Finally Steve begged, “I can take it. Please Tony.” Tony withdrew a bit, then began driving in and out of him with slow, deliberate thrusts.

The tight, hot pressure of Steve's asshole was maddening, as was the view from Tony’s perspective. This perfect specimen of masculine beauty was lying beneath him, his beautiful features positively glowing with mingled lust and tenderness. It was impossible for Tony to maintain his usual levels of cynicism in the face of such wide-eyed carnality. There was something uniquely transcendent in being on the receiving end of such a look, made all the more potent by the sensation of driving in and out of Steve’s flawless ass. With every little moan that erupted from his lover, Tony felt his pleasure intensify, felt himself lurching too quickly toward release. In a vain attempt to make it last, he tried to distract himself with a repetitive phrase, but all that came to mind was, “Tony Stark, you are fucking Captain America in the ass,” which served only to intensify his sense of urgency. Somewhere in his lust-mad haze, he made a mental note to examine what the hell that said about him, then he surrendered his mind to the experience of sensation. Punctuating each word in his silent, seriously-not-helpful mantra with another thrust, Tony picked up the pace.

Gripping Steve's thighs, he shifted the angle of entry, so his cock was rubbing against Steve's prostate, eliciting increasingly voluble gasps and exclamations from him.

“Tony… this is… unbelievable…” Steve’s voice was guttural and raw as he grabbed his cock, feverishly stroking it as Tony continued pounding his ass.

“...Fucking! Captain! America! Fuuuuuuck.” Tony's body spasmed and he gasped as he came, uttering a stream of profanities.

The urgency of Tony's thrusts, and the sound of his voice tipped Steve over the edge with him, spurting his load on his belly. “God bless America!”

As Tony's thrusts slowed to a stop, they both panted and looked at each other, simultaneously asking, “What did you just say...?”

Tony eased out of Steve, and lightly kissed his chest. He stepped into the bathroom, and emerged with a towel and damp washcloth. As he wiped the cloth over Steve's abdomen, he chuckled. “Was that, or was that not, your most patriotic orgasm to date? Seriously, I need to know... did you see fireworks, Steve?”

Steve rolled his eyes and pushed at Tony, confiscating the washcloth for himself. “Yeah, I saw fireworks, when you started shouting about _fucking Captain America_.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

That evening, Steve decided he should probably head back to his apartment. He’d lost count of the number of times they’d had sex in the past twenty four hours, and was becoming keenly aware of his lack of clean underwear to change into. As much as he was enjoying Tony's company, he wasn’t quite ready to simply wander the penthouse naked. And if he was honest, he was afraid to overstay his welcome, especially since they'd really only been dating for one day. He wanted to give them both time to adjust and relax, to give this thing between them the best possible chance. He didn’t tell Tony all that, of course. He just focused on the clean clothes, and added that he really needed to run.

“Yes, because you’re clearly tottering on the verge of being in terrible physical condition, Grandpa,” Tony muttered as he pouted. He reminded Steve he'd been talking about getting cannoli all day. Steve’s cheeks glowed pink as he admitted he'd thought Tony's “incessant talk of cannolis” was meant as a euphemism for “...other things.”

“You are unspeakably ridiculous,” Tony said, with a twinkle in his eyes. “But now we are definitely going out for dinner and cannoli. I can't have you thinking _everything_ I say is about sex.”

As they prepared to head out, Tony paused, thoughtful for a moment.

“JARVIS, please update Steve Rogers' access to the penthouse. He's welcome to come and go as he pleases.”

“As you wish. Security status updated.”

Steve stared for a moment, struggling to find words. “I... gosh, Tony, I don't know what to say. Thank you.”

Tony smiled crookedly, then pressed his lips to Steve's cheek. “If a guy can't trust Captain America with an all-access pass, who can he trust?”

That night, Tony lay in bed, struggling to sleep. He couldn't stop thinking about the last twenty four hours, and despite having gone several rounds with Steve in that time, his body craved more. As he lay there remembering the feel of him, a text message came in from Steve. _‘I don't know how people manage. Once you start with the sex, it's hard to think of anything else. - Steve’_

Tony smirked and typed a quick response. _‘You have several decades' worth of pent-up aggression to work out. I'm right here, when you're ready for more of “the sex.”’_

_‘I was tempted to go back to your place after dinner. You are very good at it, you know. - Steve’_

_‘I know.’_

_‘Start thinking about the next movies you want me to see. Maybe we can do that again soon? -Steve’_

_‘Absolutely. I have a long list written already. Hope you like Jimmy Stewart.’_

_‘Sure do. Looking forward to it. I have an appointment tomorrow, so I'd best get some sleep. Night, Tony. - Steve’_

Tony turned off the lamp and rolled over, telling himself it was perfectly normal to be grinning like an idiot. After a moment, he turned back to pick up his phone. _‘You know you don’t actually have to sign your text messages, right? I can tell they’re from you.’_

_‘Oh. Right.’_

Despite his initial reluctance to get involved with the project, Bruce arrived at Stark Tower a few minutes before noon, file in hand and ready to discuss Tony’s balls over lunch. He’d written up several pages of notes on gamma radiation and the serum in question. After JARVIS announced him, he found Tony setting out plates at the dining table.

“Ah, the man of the hour. Come, have a seat. Eat some lunch. Let’s have a look at what you came up with.”

They flipped through the folder together, chatting animatedly over their research. It was a rare treat for Tony to have a friend whose intellect he respected. Bruce certainly knew his stuff, and had done an impressive job of applying his brilliant mind to the work at hand.

“So… Bruce, I think you’re definitely on the right track here. I am very interested in proceeding with this, if you’re willing to help.” Tony’s fingertips drummed against the table as he hesitated, then continued. “Look, I’m going to cut right to the chase. I actually really need your help. When I started the injections, it was easy to do them myself because my old man balls - as you so delicately put it - were hanging so low. I could grab them and see what I was doing. As the treatments have progressed, it’s become more of a challenge.”

Bruce just blinked at Tony. He literally could not find a single word that made any sense in this moment, so he stuck to the one thing he knew: blinking.

“I’m pretty spry for a guy my age, but I’m no contortionist. Come to think of it, I dated a contortionist once. Well, dated is a pretty euphemistic term for what we did. Anyway. That’s a story for another time. Getting back to the matter of my balls… I can’t see where I’m trying to put the needle. It makes me nervous. If you could help me…”

“You want me to give you a shot. In your scrotum.” Bruce’s hands had made his way to his face, in an unconscious effort to shield himself from the increasing lunacy of this situation. He peered through the gaps between his fingers, wondering how exactly his life choices had led him to this precise moment.

Tony nodded as he got up to fetch the kit. “That is exactly what I want you to do. I don’t want to miss a dose and screw this up.”

With a heavy sigh, Bruce watched Tony open a case containing syringes and a vial of serum.

“I know I’m a doctor, so this shouldn’t be a big deal, but Tony... you’re my friend. And colleague. Couldn’t you enlist your personal physician to do this?”

As Tony prepped the syringe and filled it with serum, he cast a glance over at Bruce. “Right. Imagine that conversation. ‘Hey doc, I just need you to inject this mystery serum into my balls.’ I’m fairly certain no doctor I approach will agree to that.”

“But you expect me to.”

Tony pursed his lips. “I don’t _expect_ you to. I’m _asking_ you to. I’m actually pleading with you to do this. Look, if it helps keep this on the strictly professional, I’ll compensate you. Do you need new lab equipment? Name it, and it’s yours.”

“I’ll put together a list and send it over later. Because you’d better believe I will hold you to that,” Bruce warned, taking the syringe. “Okay, how do you want to do this?”

Tony was already undoing his fly. “I’m going to need to sit on the edge of this chair. When the serum goes in, it burns like hell. The first time I injected it, I was standing in the bathroom. I ended up hitting my head on the counter.”

Without further hesitation, Tony dropped his pants and sat down, legs splayed wide as he leaned back. Bruce rolled his eyes and knelt down, immediately going into medical professional mode as he examined Tony’s goods. “Well, you weren’t lying about the effects of the treatments so far. The difference between that pre-serum picture and this is remarkable.”

“Thank you. I knew you’d appreciate the science at work here.”

Bruce looked for the injection spot, then offered a quiet, “This is going to sting.” As the serum was injected, Tony closed his eyes and gripped the edge of the table, swearing gutturally.

“Hey Tony, I got done early and thought maybe--” Steve walked in and stopped in his tracks, as he took in the sight of Bruce kneeling before a pantless, gasping Tony. The bakery box in Steve’s hand fell to the floor as his body began to shake. Jaw clenched, he breathed, “Son of a bitch.”

Tony was still gritting his teeth against the pain in his balls, but he scrambled for his pants. Wincing as he pulled them up, he managed a choked, “Steve, wait, this isn’t--”

“Not what I think? I know I’m not as experienced as the _worldly Tony Stark_ , but I’m not that easy a mark. We had cheaters back in the forties, too.” Eyes glittering with rage and wounded pride, Steve kicked the dropped box of pastries and turned to leave.

“Damn it, Steve, if you’d just let me explain.”

Bruce was sitting on the floor, gawking at the scene playing out before him. “Wait… hang on… _this_ is your twenty five year old?”

Tony glanced at Bruce and gave a slight shrug, then ran after his boyfriend.

**Author's Note:**

> Tune in next week, folks, for the thrilling conclusion to this story! Will Steve listen to Tony's explanation? Will Bruce ever stop laughing? Most importantly, will Tony's balls ever get the gamma rays they so desperately crave? Find out next week, in the final installment!


End file.
